


The Weight of Love

by justanotherrollingstony (adoctoraday)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, M/M, One-Sided Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:42:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23511028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adoctoraday/pseuds/justanotherrollingstony
Summary: How much does love weigh? Is it an intangible thing?The only thing Steve knows, is that the weight in his arms is too much to bear.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 17
Kudos: 97





	The Weight of Love

What is the weight of love?

Steve thinks it’s about as heavy as the weight of Tony’s body in his arms, but that too feels too light for all the life that used to inhabit it.

Tony was a force to be reckoned with while alive, as vibrant as a star, shining brightly, lighting the path forward for them all.

But now he’s gone and Steve doesn’t know how to breathe, how to exist in a world without Tony.

Intuitively, Steve knows that the armor is heavy, but he can barely feel it in his arms—and yet at the same time it’s a crushing weight on his chest, making each breath a struggle to draw.

It’s eerily quiet on the battlefield, the ashes of their enemies float away on the breeze and with it is carried the sound of Peter’s soft sobs.

Beside him, Pepper is ashen faced and silent, eyes glazed with grief.

He’s never known loss like this; all consuming and so real he can taste the bitterness of it in the back of his throat.

His gaze catches on Tony’s ashen face, on the burns where the power had eaten away at him and he stumbles, vision blurring and chest shuddering.

A strong hand grabs his elbow and steadies him, holds him up while he gasps for breath and blinks till his eyes are clear and can see Bucky by his side, grief in his eyes too.

He doesn’t know how far they walk till they’re free of the destruction—a few feet, a few miles, it doesn’t really matter because Tony and so many others are still dead.

He’s gentle, as gentle as he can be when he lays Tony down in some lab in a part of the compound that wasn’t destroyed. The hollow clang of the armor as he pulls it off Tony’s corpse rings through the room, too loud.

The stench of burnt flesh and death fills his nose and he heaves, choking on it for a moment before he continues, tears rolling down his face with each piece of armor that’s taken off Tony’s body.

When he’s finally free of it he stands there, staring at the man he’s loved for so long he doesn’t know what to do now that’s he’s gone.

A sob wracks his chest and he sways, hand catching on the steel gurney Tony is laying on— ** _that’s not Tony anymore_** his brain whispers and he staggers back, gasping for air as the room spins.

He collapses, shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs, hunched over the cold marble floor, hands splayed out as he screams and screams and screams.

“Shh, Steve, c’mon, c’mere.”

Arms, one flesh, the other metal, wrap around him and draw him back against a broad chest and he clings to those arms, spit on his chin as he wails and sobs, the agony inside him clawing its way out like a wild animal.

He hears his name distantly, as though from under water, but he pays it no mind.

“I can’t, I can’t Steve, I wish I could.”

He’s confused, _**can’t what?**_

“Breathe Steve, c’mon you goddamn punk, _**breathe**_.”

He sucks in air in great shuddering heaves, the familiar scent of gunpowder and blood steadying, even as it makes his stomach turn once more. He’s pulled into a tighter grip, face pressed into flesh and he weeps, clutching at Bucky desperately.

“Please, make it stop,” he whispers brokenly, “I can’t take the pain.”

Bucky hushes him, a hand in his sweaty hair just this side of too tight. “I wish I could Steve, believe me.”

Steve cries until his eyes ache, chest sore and lungs strained from the force and duration of his breakdown. He shifts eventually, till he’s sitting shoulder to shoulder with Bucky, the sterile white marble filling his vision.

There’s blood on his hands.

Tony’s?

His?

Someone else’s?

No way to know.

“I loved him.”

“I know.”

It’s too late now, these words, but he says them anyway.

He’d asked Bucky to make it stop hurting, but he thinks...if it didn’t hurt then maybe he never would have loved Tony.

If he hadn’t loved Tony, he wouldn’t be in this much pain.

He can’t regret loving Tony.

Even if it hurts.

He leaves Bucky and stands, shaky and weak, and goes back to Tony.

He smiles, lips trembling and bends down.

Kisses his brow.

Smells the lingering scent of cologne and sweat and _**Tony**_ , fading quickly from his skin.

“I love you,” he whispers.

Kisses him again.

“Goodbye.”

* * *

He sits vigil with Tony’s body all night while Pepper and Happy make funeral arrangements. He reflects on his life with Tony and the Avengers, on all the good he’s done and all the times he’s failed.

He wonders if maybe, in another time, another life, if he and Tony could have been so much more than they were.

* * *

The funeral passes in a blur and then he’s saying goodbye to Bucky, the grief in his best friend’s eyes nearly too much for him to bear.

He’ll be back.

Eventually.

* * *

The first thing he sees when his vision clears is Tony’s surprised face, younger than when Steve knew him, years before the Avengers or Afghanistan or any of it.

_**“Steve Rogers?”** _

He smiles for the first time in days.

“Hey Tony.”

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this on Tumblr and I think it's a lovely idea--feel free to copy and paste into your own fics!!
> 
> Emoji Key for those who don't know what to say in the comments!
> 
> ❤ = you wish you could kudos again  
> 😭 = I got you right in the feels  
> 🔥 = this was so hot!  
> 🐰 = it’s so fluffy!


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